In Your Dreams
by Karallaye
Summary: What if Eames and Arthur had fallen in love and lived happily ever after for a few years? What if it was all in a dream? What if only Eames remembered? Would he be able to get Arthur back in the real world? Would Arthur even believe him?
1. Chapter 1

_When you're gonna stop breaking my heart?  
I don't wanna be another one..._

_**A smile, arms wrapped around his waist, a kiss behind the ear. He desperately wanted to stay this way. Those eyes looked straight through him, until he was left bare. Fingers intertwined, the smell of espresso boiling away. The whistle of a kettle screeching.**_

"ARRGHHH!" Eames woke with a strangled yelp. He sat up, throwing off the thin sheet that covered him, and hung his legs over the edge of the bed. Cradling his head in his hands, Eames thought back to the dream. _That smile..._

No, he wouldn't go there again. His dreams were getting worse. Not really nightmares, just the worst type of dream imaginable. The same dream that he couldn't forget, because it wasn't really imagined at all. It was a memory of something real, something he just wanted to be real again.

Eames stood from the bed and paced around the cramped bedroom for a minute or two. Stopping to stare vacantly out the window, he suddenly grabbed a sweatshirt from his barely unpacked bag, and threw it on over his threadbare t-shirt. He pulled on his trainers, and making sure the door was locked behind him, Eames made his way out of the run-down motel he was staying in. Slipping his key onto a light chain around his neck, he tucked it into the neck of his shirt, and began to jog through the immense city of Hong Kong.

He needed to get _that_ face out of his mind. He meandered down to the waterfront. Eames was staying on the Kowloon side of the city, but the view from this end at dawn was breathtaking. Unfortunately, the only thing he noticed about the city was its hulking weight pressing down on him at every angle. Eames had to get out. With a tired grimace on his face, he took one final look at the city's beautiful skyline, and let out a low sigh. Hopefully this would be the last time he saw it.

_Where do we come from?  
Do I know your name?  
Doesn't really matter,  
In this life we're all the same..._

Arthur gave himself a quick once-over in the hotel lobby. Straightening his tie with a deliberateness not usually seen in the young man, the mirror-image seemed to gaze back with an empty look. Blinking, at his own vanity, he stepped away from glossy black wall, and turned to walk into the restaurant.

After a muttered conversation with the hostess, Arthur grabbed a seat at the bar. Flagging down the bartender, he ordered a drink. Leaning against the low back on the tall chair, now all he had to do was wait. The man he was waiting for had simply slipped a card into his pocket, with the name of this restaurant, a date, time and the letter "E" scribbled across the back.

Arthur wasn't sure of whom he was meeting. He barely even remembered what this man had looked like; if that was even the person he was meeting tonight. And if it wasn't him, well then Arthur would be in for a surprise. He wasn't even sure what the meeting was to be about. But hopefully it was about what he thought it was. After all, he was really only ever good at one thing, dreams.

"I hope I haven't kept you waiting long, Arthur, dear." Turning at the familiar foreign accent, Arthur came face to face with a man he knew he knew. He just couldn't place the face in his mind. There was something familiar in this man, but for the life of him, he could not remember what it was.

"Have we met?" Arthur asked. The man cracked a small smile before giving the bartender a small wave and ordering a beer. After a minute, when his drink arrived, he responded affably.

"But of course we have Arthur", taking a sip, he continued, "In your dreams" The man winked, and began to walk away, towards a table in the back of the restaurant. After walking a few paces, he spun around to find Arthur still watching him from the bar. With an amused grin, he jerked his head towards the waitress waiting at the table, "Well we haven't got all night darling"

After they were seated, Arthur glanced up at the man across from him. The hair was perfectly combed, and the five o'clock shadow was fittingly allowed free reign. The navy pinstripe suit, from what he'd seen, was perfectly tailored, if tad a bit eccentric in pattern choice with the silvery-white paisley tie. The light blue shirt brought out the man's eyes, which were currently watching him with a delighted twinkle.

"Glad to see my fashion choices are still of interest to more than just me and the woman sitting behind you" Arthur jerked back a bit and looked away with a light blush, before looking straight into the man's eyes. Pointedly, he asked,

"Who are you?" After a moment of silence, Arthur realized that he wasn't going to get an honest answer, so he leaned forward on his arms, and asked again quietly, "Really? Why do I feel like I know you?"

"Because you do know-"

"Oh, don't give me that bullshit!" Only when the man's eyes darted around the room did Arthur realize that he'd said that a bit louder than he'd intended. "Sorry"

"Eames" Arthur's head snapped up to reexamine the man in front of him. That name, it was the same name from the dreams he'd been having recently. But those were personal dreams. Not work dreams. They weren't even work _related_ dreams.

Suddenly the face in front of him seemed much more familiar. He knew this face, but from his dreams. What the hell did that mean?

"What the hell does that mean?" Eames chuckled.

"You know, they told me that you wouldn't remember, but I refused to believe them," Eames muttered to himself. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet, and placed a hundred dollar bill on the table, before standing. "I'm sorry to have dragged you here tonight. I hope you enjoy the rest of your meal" He took a step forwards, before turning back to Arthur. "Here." He placed a card with his number onto the table next to Arthur's hand. "In case you _do _remember", and with that, he walked out of the restaurant into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

_**They lay in bed, limbs tangled together. The mid-morning sun was streaming through the window. Eames inched closer, until his lips were just brushing Arthur's. As Arthur's eyes fluttered open, Eames felt inexplicably happy, for once in his life.**_

_**Suddenly he was alone, in a dark room, laying on a plain hospital bed, with that damn IV in his arm. There was one door, a tinted window, and the IV seemed to come from the wall. There were no machines in sight, but he knew what type of dream that was. **_**Was that **_**all**_** a dream?**

Eames opened his eyes. It had been 3 years since he'd left the military. But the dreams hadn't stopped. When he's signed up for the trial, he'd expected some kind of drug that made you sleep better, made you stop dreaming about friends getting killed, and children caught in the crossfire. What he'd found was something so much more interesting, a world that was totally within the mind.

The first few "shared dreams" were really quite a bizarre experience. The other soldiers were from all over the world, just like him. Many countries had offered this trial to their troops. Only a few had responded.

Each time he woke up, he was alone in that room. The only time he actually met other people was in the dream. When he woke, there was food on the table for him. Eames knew he was being watched, observed for some kind of adverse reaction to this new experience. But the only thing that seemed to change, was that he couldn't really tell which reality he was living in, and which he was dreaming in. They both were real to him.

The first time he saw Arthur, he did an honest-to-god double take. This man was so slight, so simple, and yet, something about him caught him off guard. In these dreams, it was just like being back at the base. The food still sucked, the showers were still communal, and the beds were still uncomfortable. But that was normal, so they all got on well enough. But something about Arthur intrigued him.

He and Arthur met for the first time during combat training, or as the boys liked to call it, "Fight Club". They'd had to duel. It was a dirty fight, and in the end, Arthur actually killed him. When Eames woke up, he couldn't believe that little shit had beaten him. He'd gone back into the dream, with a smile, and an urge to fight Arthur again.

Thus it went for months in the dream world. Arthur and Eames grew closer and closer, until Eames realized that he was irrevocably in love with Arthur.

_It's the only way, to bring me back...  
_

Arthur kicked the door to his apartment shut. He had finally gotten back home. During the entire flight, he'd simply stared out the window, contemplating the man he'd met, _Eames_, before he'd dozed off, falling back into that dream.

A man, that he'd been dreaming about for the last month, suddenly shows up in Hong Kong, and asks him to dinner, then leaves in the middle, because _Arthur_ doesn't remember him. The whole situation was just, well to put it frankly, a paradox to Arthur.

As he sat down on his leather couch, glass of wine in hand, he pulled the card out from his breast pocket, and placed it on the empty coffee table. Sipping the wine slowly, he stared at the numbers. For a while he contemplated not calling, just to piss the other man off, but he couldn't say he didn't remember anything. That would be a lie. Arthur knew this man, he just didn't know how or why.

Giving into his curiosity, he reached over to the side table, and grabbed his phone. He dialed the number, and when the phone started to ring, he jumped up from his place on the couch and started to wander mindlessly around the room. The phone kept ringing, and just as he pulled it away from his ear to hang up, he heard a quick "hello?"

Jerking the phone back to his ear, he responded quietly, "Eames?"

"Darling, I was beginning to think you _really _didn't remember me at all" Arthur could practically hear the smirk. Turning back to the couch, he sat down again, before replying.

"Yeah, well I wasn't sure that I remembered _you_ at all" Silence. He hastened to continue, "But... I need to... to see you again. There's something about you that I can't figure out, and I feel like it's important"

"Well, where are you, love? I'll come right now" Arthur frowned a little at that.

"One problem, I'm not in Hong Kong anymore" Arthur bit his lip, waiting for a response.

"I don't think that's such a problem" Arthur let out a sigh of relief. "But where _are_ you love? It took me forever and a day just to find you here. I don't think I'll be so quick to find you again"

"New York" He said hesitantly, knowing that a seventeen-hour flight could be a bit of a deterrent.

"I'll be on the next flight. See you tomorrow Darling" Arthur opened his mouth to respond, but he heard the telltale click of the line going dead. Smiling slightly, he stared at the clock on the wall. In 24 hours, he would face Eames again.

_Is he thinking of me  
Did he forget what we once had..._

Eames hung up the phone without waiting for a reply. His hands shook as he threw the small cell phone onto the bed next to him. Flopping onto his back, he stared at the dingy ceiling for a while, before letting his eyes drift shut. His mind was filled with those dark brown eyes.

_What the hell are you doing?_

**A/N: Sorry! I forgot to put this in Chapter 1: I own nothing! (Not Inception, nor the Kaskade, Mr Hudson, Norah Jones & Edward Maya Lyrics)**

**So I just saw Inception for the third time, and I found myself in love with Eames & Arthur. I really wanted to write a story for them. The Dream where they were together is more of a back story than anything else. This fic is mostly going to be about the new adventure of their realities coming together. I hope you enjoy!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This is a bit of a short one, I pretty much just wanted to get the flight out of the way. I've done that flight twice, and I wish I could have made my 17 hours go by in 350 words. Haha**

**Moving on, I don't own Inception, or Black & Gold by Sam Sparro**

_'cause if you're not really here  
then the stars don't even matter  
now I'm filled to the top with fear  
that it's all just a bunch of matter_

For some reason, whenever Eames was in Hong Kong, he forgot that the rest of the world's cities didn't exist in a tropical climate. Maybe this was his subconscious' way of shutting out the rest of the world, but for some reason, he never remembered to pack warm enough clothes to go anywhere farther north or south (depending on the time of year). So when he rushed to the airport wearing nothing but a suit & tie, he didn't give a second thought to the fact that it was February, and he was about to get on a flight to New York.

Unfortunately, he was brutally reminded of this fact, as soon as the plane cleared the gate. Looking around, he saw people pulling on coats, and scarves. _Damn_. Turing on his cell phone, he scrolled to Arthur's number and hit send. After a moment, his call was forwarded to voicemail. There was no personal outgoing message, or even a name, just a computerized sequence of numbers. The only reason Eames even knew he had the right number was because he had spent most of his time waiting at the airport in Hong Kong, just staring at the number, wondering if he should call.

As soon as the beep sounded, he left a brief message, "Hello Darling, I guess you've stepped out for the moment. I just wanted to let you know that the flight got in, but I'm in dire need of a coat, so I'm off to Bloomindales for a moment. Shouldn't be long really. I'll give you a call when I'm done, so I can find out where we'll be meeting this time. Ta"

Eames flipped the phone shut, and stared at it in a mild state of shock. He'd sounded so horrifyingly domesticated. As if this was _his_ Arthur. _We're not quite there yet..._ After a moment's thought, he considered calling back and leaving a different message, but what would be the point in that. So he simply brushed it off, gathered his few carry-on belongings, and made his way into the metropolis of New York City.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So here we are again. This story is officially the longest one I've ever written, and chapter 5 is well on the way. I pretty much just came up with this entire story on a whim, so I'm sorry if anything seems disjointed. If you haven't been able to tell from the story, this takes place 'pre-Inception' so Cobb (and Ariadne) aren't even involved yet. (Although we may see some of Cobb before the end)**

**Anywho... I don't own Inception, or Season of Love by Shiny Toy Guns**

**Enjoy!  
**

_Every question,  
Every answer too.  
Ever constant,  
Ever changing view.  
It's all memory in the sun,  
Or it's hell in the darkness..._

Arthur staggered under the weight of the bag he was carrying in one arm, while simultaneously trying to unlock his apartment door with the other. After fiddling around with his keys for a moment, he was victorious in getting the front door open. Stepping inside quickly, he leaned against the door until it shut. He let out a long breath of air, before moving towards the kitchen.

Placing the bag on the counter, he unpacked the bottle of wine wrapped in newspaper, unwrapped it, and placed it in the wine cooler. Reaching into the bag again, he pulled out a six-pack of beer. Holding it in his hands, he inspected it for a moment. _Why did I buy this?_ It was a foreign brand, that he'd only seen once before, and it had taken him most of the morning to find it, having to call up a friend at their brewery to identify the label. He didn't even drink beer really, but he'd been nearly obsessed with finding it. This was the bottle that Eames had been drinking at their dinner.

Arthur opened the fridge, and placed it on the bottom shelf. Then he placed other foodstuffs in front of the six-pack before shutting the door. Shaking his head, he unpacked the other supplies he's bought. He placed the eggs, milk, some cheeses, fruit, sliced meat, and a loaf of fresh bread into the fridge. It wasn't much, but he hadn't been home in a while, and he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to stay here for very long anyway.

He turned and wandered towards his bedroom before jumping lightly onto the bed. Landing with a bounce, he let his eyes wander around the room, before he saw the light blinking on his phone. Reaching over, he pressed the button for voicemail.

"_Hello Darling, I guess you've stepped out for the moment. I just wanted to let you know that the flight..._" Arthur listened with a slight smile. At the end, instead of erasing the message as he usually would, he pressed save, before hurriedly calling Eames back. Trying not to think about _why_ he'd just saved that message, he simply waited for the other man to answer the phone.

_Crazy with it,  
Crazier without.  
Never certain,  
Never full of doubt..._

Smiling, Eames pulled his vibrating phone out of his pocket. With a wink at the saleslady in front of him, he answered the call, "Hello Darling"

"Um, hey" Eames waited patiently for Arthur to continue, while he watched the saleslady ring up his purchases. "So... I got your message... No coat? Really?" Eames winced at the memory.

"Well, I was in a bit of a hurry, love" Eames shook his head at the saleslady as she moved to place the coat, hat and scarf into a plastic bag. She stopped and looked at him questioningly, before noticing that he wasn't wearing or carrying a coat at all. With a smirk, she pointed at the total, and held out her hand. Eames reached into his pocket and pulled out his card. She gave him a tired look, and swiped it for him. "I am currently in the process of attaining a new coat. So no worries"

A sigh came across the line, but Eames thought he could hear the small smile.

"Right now, I'm uptown on Lexington. Where might you be, darling?" Eames hoped for an honest answer.

"...More uptown, on the upper West Side" Eames grinned. Of _course_ Arthur would pick the West side. It was so very him, new and luxurious, without being _too_ flashy.

"Well, can I meet you somewhere near you?" Eames didn't have to wait long for a response.

"Why don't you just come here?" It was rushed, and Eames smiled widely at that.

"Just tell me where, and I'll find it" He quickly signed the check, and when it cleared, the saleslady began to snip the different tags off. Eames listened to the address, and quickly told Arthur he'd see him soon, before hanging up. The saleslady handed him the coat, and watched him pull it on with ease. It was a two hundred dollar coat, but the man wore it well. She silently handed him the scarf and hat, and watched him walk away. _That is one fiiine man._ Turning away, she smiled and greeted the next customer.

_Where did it come from and where  
Does it go?  
If it were right in front of me  
Would I know?_

Arthur paced rapidly around his apartment. He hadn't been here long, so not many things were lying around, but he grabbed the few things that were there, and put them away. _Why did I invite him here?_ He'd debated calling back and rescheduling to the coffee shop nearby. He'd been vacillating like this for about a half hour. Arthur wasn't sure why he was nervous, but he was anyway.

Just as he was straightening the soft wool blanket on the back of the couch for the fourth time, he heard the phone ring. That had to be the doorman. He answered quickly, and told the doorman to let the man up, before giving himself a quick once over in the mirror. As he lightly patted down his hair, he heard a knock.

Looking towards the door, he walked over and pulled it open.

"Hello Darling"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This is another short one. Sorry! **

**I don't own Inception, "What Good is Love?" From Britannia High or "Falling in Love (with Brazil)" by Haley & DeadMau5  
**

_Hope has gone  
Being apart is now the place where we belong  
Oh we tried  
Our only future now is living separate lives..._

The happiest moment in Eames life was the first morning he woke up with Arthur in his arms. They were dreaming, yes, but for some reason, the dream hadn't ended yet. It had been about a year. Everyone in this damn experiment seemed to have given up hope, but here he was, with Arthur lying next to him. It was perfectly horrible, because they both knew that they were going to wake up eventually. And then they would be alone, in those dark sterile rooms. Would they ever find each other again?

_Oh this is how it feels to be alive,_

_Even though we stumble our way through._

_One chance._

_And then another one appears..._

Eames was strongly considering changing the happiest moment in his life to right now. It was the way Arthur was looking at him, like he was totally happy to see him, but wasn't sure about how to proceed.

"Hey" Eames couldn't help but smile at the hint of insecurity in the other man's voice.

"Shall we?" Eames gestured between them and the doorway, before taking a step forwards. Arthur stepped back and watched Eames wander into his apartment. Arthur shut the door, and took a deep breath before turning to face the man.

"It's all very _you_" Eames declared as he threw a glance at Arthur. Arthur looked confused for a moment, before realizing that, no matter how little or much he thought he knew about Eames, Eames knew more about him. The idea threw him for a loop.

"Can I get you anything? Wine? Beer? Water?" Eames gave him a calculating look before replying.

"Nothing Darling" He said before he sat down on the couch. Arthur gave a slight shrug and chose the seat facing the couch. They sat in silence for a moment, Eames assessing his surroundings, Arthur assessing Eames. _Yeah, That is definitely the same face. _Eames gave Arthur a pointed stare before asking, "What _do_ you remember about me?"

Arthur took a moment to reorganize his thoughts before he spoke, "I'm not sure exactly..." Eames leaned back in his seat with a sigh. "I am sure that I know you. I'm very sure about that. But I can't tell if I knew you in real life. I've dreamt about you recently"

"Only recently?" Eames seemed confused for a moment, before he seemed to recall something, "Yes, well, that's all well and good, but do you remember what happened in Syria?"

"...Syria? The... hospital?" Arthur seemed to be lost in his thoughts, "How do you know about that?" Arthur questioned as he snapped back to reality. Eames gave him a look, as if to say, '_Really?_' Arthur nodded slightly. "Of course, you were there"

"Now we're getting somewhere love" Eames crossed his ankle over his knee, and gave Arthur a long look. "What do you remember?" He repeated slowly.

**A/N: Please excuse me while I go figure out _what_ Arthur Remembers... Haha, jk**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I know, these just keep getting shorter, But I'm still writing, right? Eh, we'll see how this goes. **

**I don't own Inception, "I Remember" by Deadmau5 & Kaskade or "The Bird & The Worm" by Owl City  
**

_Add to the memory you keep,_

_Remember when you fall asleep._

_Hold to the love that you know,_

_You don't have to give up to let go..._

"I remember...Dreaming" Arthur's mind was racing. He didn't know what to say, really, "If I try to tell you, I'll just sound crazy"

"Arthur, darling, I know a lot more about dreams than you seem to think I do" Arthur gave Eames a questioning glance, and leaned back in his chair. He crossed his fingers and rested his chin on his hands. They both stared into space for a while, until Eames stood.

"I dreamed I had sex with you." Arthur finally declared after a moments hesitation.

"Well, I think now is as good a time as any for that beer you mentioned", Arthur nodded slowly as Eames brushed past him, toward what he hoped was the kitchen. After a minute, Arthur scrambled up and into the kitchen, but as he stopped short at the door, he realized it was too late. Eames was leaning back against the counter, with the beer bottle in his hands. He was looking down at it, and Arthur couldn't really make out his face.

_You and I left our troubles far behind  
But I still have just one more question on my mind_

Eames could not believe that Arthur remembered that this was his favorite beer. He'd heard the other man practically run in from the other room, but he couldn't look up. Placing the bottle on the counter behind him, Eames pulled back his shirtsleeve to look at his watch. It wasn't moving. With a sigh of relief, he smiled guardedly at Arthur.

"How did know... I mean to say, where did you find this?" He watched Arthur carefully. The smaller man was sporting a slight blush, but he looked determined to spit out what he wanted to say.

"I remembered, from the restaurant. You got two bottles, but only drank the first one. I figured you liked it. Then when I got home, I couldn't figure out why I'd gone through the trouble..." He trailed off. Eames picked the bottle back up, and holding it out to Arthur, he inquired,

"Oh...Well, do you have a bottle opener?" Arthur jumped into action.

"I'm sure I have one around here somewhere. I know I do," He mumbled under his breath, as he pulled open, and rummaged through each and every drawer. Eames gave the average sized kitchen a cursory glance, and spotted a small opener hanging on a hook over the wine fridge. Deftly reaching over Arthur's back, he grabbed it from the wall, and leaned back against the counter to open the bottle. When Arthur heard the hiss of the cracked seal, he straightened up, and gave a mild glare.

"You could have told me"

"Well where would be the fun in that?" Eames placed the opener, and the bottle cap on the counter, and moved back towards the living room. He sat in a slightly different position on the couch, and watched through the door as Arthur cleared off the counter, and wiped it clean. Muttering to himself, presumably about messy guests, Arthur pulled out a new bottle of wine, and reached up for a glass. He poured himself a glass, and when everything was back in its place, he slowly made his way to the living room. Eames watched this familiar process, amused that Arthur would be so similar to his dream self.

Arthur threw Eames a look, "What?"

"Absolutely nothing dear" He responded with a smile.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This one was a bit more difficult to write, as now Eames has to differentiate his Arthur from reality. But he'll get there, I'm almost sure of it. ;)**

**I don't own Inception, "Please Send Me Someone (Anselmo's Song)" by George Michael, "Sweet Disposition" by The Temper Trap, "Round & Round" by Selena Gomez & the Scene.**

_Some people said, he will never love again  
Some people said, you can see it in his eyes  
He keeps it all inside and yet . . . .  
Some people say, in time, we all teach ourselves to live this way_

When Eames had been discharged from the military, he'd gone looking for Arthur. He'd tried to find the places from their dreams, but Arthur had been very careful to not give everything away. All of the stores they had visited, the parks they'd lazed around in, the beaches they'd made love on, all weren't real.

Eames practically drove himself crazy searching for places that didn't exist, and a man who he was beginning to doubt as well. He'd spent a year just wandering from city to city, shore to shore, looking for something that was familiar to him. Arthur couldn't have created their entire experience from memory. Something about his dreams was bound to be anchored in reality, and Eames was determined to find the anchor.

* * *

_Oh reckless abandon,_

_Like no one's watching you_

_A moment, a love_

_A dream, a laugh_

_A kiss, a cry..._

Arthur let out a chuckle as Eames opened a new bottle of beer, and took a large swig before pouring the rest into the roasting pan.

"Are you serious? I have other beer, why waste your favorite?" Eames stared at Arthur, scandalized.

"Arthur, darling, _this_ is not a waste," he gestured at the roast he was preparing, "It heightens the _experience_, the flavor, when you use good beer. I thought you, of all people, with your fancy tastes, would understand that" For a moment, Arthur pretended to be affronted, then shrugged in agreement, and simply watched Eames continue to rummage through his shelves.

Their conversation hadn't really gotten anywhere sitting in the living room. They'd made small talk about a job Arthur was preparing for, before Eames declared that he was ravenous. He'd taken one quick look in Arthur's kitchen, and dragged the other man to the market down the street.

Now here they were, lounging in a comfortable silence. Arthur watched Eames place the roast in the oven. He was surprised when, without being asked, Eames began to clean up as well. After a moment's hesitation, Arthur moved over next to the taller man to help him dry the dishes and put them all in their place. By the time the enormous mess, that was Eames' cooking, had been cleaned up, they leaned against opposite counters and examined each other. The beeping of the timer startled them both, and Arthur jumped to grab the potholders, and pull out the roast.

_Going round and round  
We'll never get where  
We're going  
Round and round..._

Eames was surprised at the openness Arthur was displaying. But then again, it had been three years since he'd seen the man last, and that had been in a dream. He'd really had no clue what to expect of this Arthur when he got here. But now that he was here, he could feel Arthur evading the topic at hand. Eames needed to figure out what was going on, why Arthur didn't remember him. The question was eating away at the string of hope he'd held in his chest on the flight to New York. _Would Arthur _ever_ remember their time together?_

They sat down to eat in a companionable silence, for a while the soft 'clink' of the dinnerware being the only sound. Eames took a sip of beer, and with a heavy swallow, opened his mouth to speak.

"We were together, weren't we?" Arthur said suddenly. It was more of a declaration than a question, but Eames nodded all the same.

"Yes", He replied simply.

"But my question is, why do you remember that, and I don't?" Arthur seemed to be looking at the situation from a merely academic standpoint. Eames chose to follow in that train of thought.

"Haven't you ever had a dream that you couldn't remember?" He countered. Taking a bite, he watched the thoughts churn through Arthur's mind, and the emotions play across his face.

"But we must have been down there for a long time, in order to have established any sort of relationship that would bring you here three years later." A smirk spread slowly across Eames' face. _Now he's getting it_.

"Precisely love, a very long time.'

"How long?"

"About five and a half years," Eames let the point man process this new information.

"That's not terribly long though, but we were trapped, weren't we?" Arthur seemed to be talking it all in stride. Eames figured he would take the time to reexamine everything later, in private. Before continuing, Eames closed his eyes briefly, and took a breath.

"Yes dear. Just as it seemed to be a lost cause, and we'd begun to lose our grip on what was real, and what wasn't, that was when you woke up." Arthur gave him a startled look.

"You mean, we didn't wake up at the same time?" Pinching the bridge of his nose, Eames gave the slightest shake of his head. "Wow. I'm sorry."

"No need to be sorry, it wasn't really your fault. You didn't die in the dream," _Or kill yourself,_ he left out, "One day, I woke up, and you were gone. I guessed that your time had run out. Mine ran out soon after." He finished brushing over the fact that 'soon after' was really about four months after.

"Do you think my subconscious made me forget that entire experience?" Eames took a moment to contemplate that.

"It's possible, in this crazy situation, anything's possible really", He was hedging, and they both knew it.

"...But you don't think it's probable" Arthur was giving him a look that spoke volumes. Eames could see the confusion and twinge of fear spreading across the man's face.

"No, Arthur, Darling, I don't" Seeing the fear becoming more apparent, he hurried to continue, "I should have been the one to forget something like that. I was left alone, and for a while I began to doubt that you had even existed, but then something clicked, and I remembered. You woke up first, theoretically, you should remember everything, and I should remember nothing at all, as a means of self preservation."

"Then why did you ask me if I'd ever had a dream I didn't remember? As if to make that dream seem like any other throwaway dream? Especially if you didn't think it was so?" Arthur's look of fear had morphed into one of deep thought with a hint of aggravation. Eames placed his chin in his hand, and leaning back in his seat, he looked into Arthur's dark eyes and said camly,

"It was merely an idea, dear, no need to get yourself worked up." But Arthur was so deep in thought, he didn't seem to notice that Eames had said anything at all. "I think that's enough for tonight" Eames stood, and began to gather their dishes, leaving Arthur to his thoughts. As he was washing the last dish, Arthur came and stood next to him.

"Where are you staying?" Eames took a moment to think, before remembering that in the rush to get to Arthur, he hadn't made any reservations.

"I don't know, but I'm sure I'll find someplace easily enough" Arthur seemed unconvinced. "It's the city that never sleeps!" Eames shugged nonchalantly, "I'll be fine"

"You can stay here, I have a second bedroom" Eames let out a bark of laughter. This part of Arthur, that yearned for total privacy, even within his home, remained exactly the same as the Arthur he knew before.

"You live in one of the most expensive cities in the world, by yourself, and you have a second bedroom? Of course" He turned to face Arthur with a grin.

"Who says I live by myself?" Arthur said with a wink, before he walked away.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Here we are at chapter 8! Woohoo! Haha, but seriously, this is where the past is going to start really getting dredged up. **

**I don't own Inception, "Start Again" by Kaskade or "Half of My Heart" by John Mayer ft. Taylor Swift**

_It's my hope, it's my fear, _

_It's my dream, all my tears._

_It's a start, it's an end,_

_Then I start again..._

Arthur stared at the window as the morning sunlight streamed through. He'd dreamt about Eames again. It was somehow comforting to be able to put a name to the face, but at the same time, he found it a bit strange to be having these dreams about a man who was sleeping in the room next door. It was also strange that this man claimed to have had an entire relationship with him, in a dream. But when it came to dreams, he wasn't one to totally dismiss ridiculous ideas. He just pushed them to the back of his mind and looked for the logic in them instead.

Flinging the heavy duvet to the side, he made his way to the in suite bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he ran his fingers through his short hair, and pulled his t-shirt out of its twisted position. After finishing his morning ritual, he grabbed a plush robe off of the back of his door, and wrapping it tightly around himself, made his way to the kitchen. He followed the enticing smell of freshly brewed coffee down the hallway, and was greeted with the beguiling sight of Eames, standing barefoot in his kitchen clad only in a worn pair of plaid pants and a large old t-shirt.

Arthur cleared his throat and gave a small, nervous smile as the other man turned around.

_Oh half of my heart's got a grip on the situation  
Half of my heart takes time  
Half of my heart's got a right mind to tell you  
That I can't keep loving you_

Eames was had expected to be awake after Arthur, he'd expected to find the man sitting at the kitchen table, staring blankly into his cup of coffee. What he found instead was an empty and quiet flat. He slowly padded down the hall to Arthur's door, and knocked softly. When he was met with silence, he slowly cracked the door and poked his head in. Trying not to be too nosy, he quickly peered over at the bed to find a large pile of sheets and blankets that he assumed was Arthur. Smiling, he shut the door, and made his way to the kitchen.

He distinctly remembered seeing a half-crumpled bag of coffee in the freezer, so Eames decided to start there. Puttering about in the kitchen, doing something so mundane, gave Eames a chance to think. This whole situation was crazy. Here he was, having followed Arthur halfway around the world, and he had no idea of what to say to the man. Their time together in the dreamscape was sacred to Eames, but what was he doing here now? Was he going to force himself upon Arthur, until the other man just gave in? Could he really ask Arthur to do that? Clearly the man didn't recall him, he was nothing but a half-remembered daydream to Arthur. Where did he expect this relationship to go?

Hearing a slight cough, he turned around to find Arthur standing in the doorway. His appearance pulled at Eames' heart. He was wrapped in a fluffy robe, wringing his hands together uncertainly. He looked so lost; it was all Eames could do not to pull the smaller man into his arms. Instead he poured another a mug of coffee, and after adding two heaping spoonfuls of sugar, handed it to him.

"Morning love"

_But I can't stop loving you with half of my..._

_Half of my heart_

Arthur took the mug with a grateful smile. He took a hesitant sip, and sighed, _perfect. _Eames held up his own mug in mock toast, and Arthur imitated the gesture. They stood in the kitchen for a while, just looking at each other. _We keep watching each other, as if waiting for something, but what?_

Arthur turned, and made his way to the living room, where he kicked off his slippers, and curled up on the couch, careful not to spill the hot coffee. He watched as Eames grabbed an apple off the counter, before coming to sit next to him on the couch. They sat facing each other.

"What do you do, Mr. Eames?" Arthur inquired with a grin, watching the other man over his mug. Eames gave a chuckle before responding.

"I'm a forger" Arthur raised an eyebrow. This wasn't what he was expecting from the large man, but he wasn't overly surprised either. Here was this man, gave off an air of being totally comfortable with himself, and yet he made a living pretending to be someone else.

"Why? May I ask?" Eames nodded.

"Because I'm good at it Arthur, Darling" Arthur had expected something like that to fall from the forger's lips.

"Yes, I understand that Eames, what I meant to ask, was how did you end up there? How did you discover that?" Eames took a moment to consider this, before answering.

"After you woke up, I was alone. I think we were the only ones who'd remained in the dreamscape for so long. Everyone else had either gone insane, or just killed themselves to get it over with. But you and I had remained there" _Remained together_, "So I began to alter the world around me. I was always rubbish at buildings, but people, people I was good at. I was desperate for company, desperate for someone to help me. I began to draw up people I'd known before"

"Like me?" Arthur interrupted in a small voice. It seemed a logical idea to him. Eames looked a bit offended at the idea.

"No, never you love. If I'd done that, I don't think I would ever have escaped." Eames gave Arthur a sad look, before continuing, "I was terrified of being alone, but I knew that if I made you, I would either trap myself there, in an effort to believe that you were real, or I would ruin you. So I went through everyone else I could remember. Eventually, I ran out of people that I remembered in enough detail, so I began to make some up. Now I try to stick to people that I've made up. It can get messy otherwise..." Eames trailed off.

Arthur opened his mouth, as if to ask something else, but seeing the dark look on Eames' face, he decided to just enjoy the clam of the morning. They had plenty of time to discuss everything, he hoped.

_Half of my heart's got a real good imagination  
Half of my heart's got you  
Half of my heart's got a right mind to tell you  
That half of my heart won't do..._

**A/N: Well, we've reached a crossroads folks. Eames must deicide if he's going to go for Arthur or not. (I'm leaning towards not-for now anyway) Let me know what you think. **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Chapter 9, it's a short one (hey, I'm seeing a pattern here) but anyway, but here we go.**

**I don't own inception, "It's Okay" by the Land of Talk, or "Dreaming with a Broken Heart" by John Mayer.**

_It's Okay,  
I don't even cry  
all I think about is a memory  
in that dream when you kissed my arm  
as I look away, don't hear  
a word I say_

_**Eames turned his head and lifted it off of the pillow to watch Arthur as the other man stood in front of the large mirror on the wall. Arthur was nervous about something, Eames could see it in the way his fingers seemed to shake as he tried to button his shirt. With a sneaky smile, he slowly rose from the bed and tried almost pointlessly, to sneak up on Arthur. **_

_** "Eames, I can see you, you know" Arthur said with a sigh.**_

_** Standing behind Arthur, Eames reached around to button the shirt for him. When he'd finished, he rested his head on Arthur's shoulder, and watched him in the mirror. Arthur lifted Eames hand to his lips, and kissed it firmly, before taking a step forward. "There's something I need to do today" **_

_** "Arthur love, What could you possibly need to do on a day like this?"**_

_** "Just something..." Arthur mumbled absentmindedly as he searched for the correct tie. **_

_** "Well, alright, but promise you'll come find me when you're done" Eames teased.**_

_** "I swear I'll find you" Arthur turned to look straight into Eames' eyes. Eames didn't know how long they stood like that, just staring at each other, before Arthur strode over to stand in front of Eames. He pulled the taller man into a bruising kiss, and for a minute, Eames thought Arthur was going to change his mind and lounge around in bed with him all day. But quickly he turned and left. Eames barely knew what hit him, before he was standing alone in the middle of their bedroom. With an exaggerated sigh, he flopped back onto the bed, content to wait for Arthur to come back.**_

_When you're dreaming with a broken heart,_

_The waking up is the hardest part.  
You roll outta bed and down on your knees,  
And for the moment you can hardly breathe,  
Wondering was he really here?  
Is he standing in my room?  
No he's not, 'cause he's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone..._

That had been the conversation Eames had had with Arthur. He'd wandered about their house for a while, but spent most of the day lazing in bed. Sometime during the night, he woke up to find Arthur crawling into bed with him, but when he woke up the next morning, the man was gone.

**A/N: So that one came a bit out of left field for me. I wanted to continue their dialogue, but Eames wanted a memory, so here we are. It's pretty short, so it shouldn't interrupt the flow too too much, I hope. I partially blame my itunes for playing John Mayer, but alas here we are anyway, I'm writing chapter 10 now, so we'll see the plot coming back. **


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **

**I don't own Inception, "Don't You" by Darren Criss**

_Here we are two strangers,_

_In a very different place,_

_Who knows what will happen to us next,_

_Here we are with just this little spark..._

When the dark thoughts had cleared from Eames' mind, he glanced down at the old gold watch on his wrist. Thankfully he had no idea how long they'd been sitting there together, and his watch didn't help him much, but Arthur took it as a sign that Eames had grown bored or impatient.

"Do you have somewhere you need to be?" Arthur seemed torn between annoyance and genuine curiosity.

"Nowhere to be but right here darling", Eames responded with a wide smile. They sat looking at each other, before Arthur asked,

"What time _is_ it anyway?"

"I have no idea." Eames said with a straight face.

"You just looked at your watch"

"Yes."

"Eames."

"The damn thing's broken again. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. I've been meaning to get it fixed, but it keeps slipping my mind" Eames was enjoying this light banter. He'd missed this.

"You don't strike me as the forgetful type," Arthur began, but Eames cut him off.

"Well, this is my one exception love" the darker brunette gave him a scowl, before he turned around to look at the clock on the wall.

"Shit!" Arthur jumped up off the couch and grabbing his coffee mug off the table, rushed into the kitchen. Taking a final swig of the dark liquid, he dumped the rest in the sink, and quickly washed the mug. Then he turned and walked into his bedroom. Eames was a bit confused but heaving himself off of the couch, he followed the other man down the hallway, at a much slower pace.

As he meandered through the door, he came across Arthur rushing around the room, grabbing things here and there and placing them on his bed. Eames watched, amused, as Arthur laid out a three-piece suit on the bed, and pulled a face before grabbing the suit and walking back into the sizable closet. Eames wandered over to the closet door to find Arthur holding two suits in hand, looking stressed out.

"Personally, I'm a fan of the grey one. It suits you" Smiling mildly at his own pun, he walked over to the other side of the closet, and, almost absentmindedly, grabbed a dark emerald green shirt with thin pinstripes of the same green inlaid in the cloth, and a diagonally striped grey tie which was slightly darker than the suit itself. Handing the items over to Arthur, he asked, "Where are you off to now love?"

"Hmm?" Arthur was examining Eames' shirt choice for any clashing patterns. Looking over at the other man, he asked him to repeat the question.

"I simply asked where you're off to in such a hurry?" Arthur sighed in acceptance of the shirt and tie, and pulled open a nearby drawer to snatch out a matching green handkerchief. Throwing Eames a quick glance, he walked out of the closet, with a quick reply,

"I have to meet a potential co-worker"

"A job interview?" Eames asked with a sly smile.

"In a way, yes. Now if you'll excuse me," Arthur walked over to the bathroom, Eames following behind him. "I need to get ready"

"But I thought you were already working on a job?" Eames frowned, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms across his chest. "Is this _another_ job?"

"No, it's for the same one, I just need... another set of hands" Arthur gave the other man a pointed look, and shut the door.

"Alright Darling, I get it" Eames began to walk out of the bedroom, muttering to himself. "No need to slam doors in my face"

_._

_Go,_

_How so very apropos_

_A goodbye just as soon as I said hello_

_Well all right, I'll see you later_

"I'll only be gone for a few hours" Arthur was looking down at his tie as he walked towards the living room. He stopped short as he rounded the corner to find no one there. He leaned around to glance into the kitchen, but it was empty as well. He spun around and made his way into the guest bedroom, but it was empty as well. Looking around, he realized that the room looked untouched, the bed was made up again, and the chair pushed back under the desk. As he turned to leave, he sighed as he caught sight of the small leather bag leaning against the desk. Eames must be coming back, if he'd left his bag. Collecting his black briefcase, he made his way out the door. The heavy weight that had settled on his shoulders at the empty apartment had lifted.

Watching the city flash by through the dingy taxi window, Arthur wondered where Eames had gone off to while he was in the shower. As they crossed the Brooklyn Bridge, he wondered why this man had requested to meet in Williamsburg. The old factory town _was _an upcoming hot spot. But the building that the taxi pulled to a stop in front of was a worn down brick warehouse. Handing the driver some cash, he jumped out before the man could offer change. Taking a few hesitant steps towards the door, he took a breath before pushing open the door.

Hearing hushed voices echoing through the large space Arthur froze. He was only supposed to meet one person. Rounding the corner, he stopped short. Standing in the middle of the room, Arthur spotted a dark blonde man, who he assumed was the man he was here to meet, and Eames.

Arthur cleared his throat, and the blonde man turned to look at him, "You must be Arthur, I'm Cobb"

_It's true, it's just a fantasy for two_

_What's the difference_

_If it all could happen true_

_I guess this is better..._

**A/N: Wow, that took forever to write, but here it is! I told you we'd see Cobb!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I don't own Inception or "Come Clean" by Hillary Duff (Yea, I used a Hillary Duff song, I have strange tastes in music shrug*)**

_I'm shedding  
Shedding every color  
Trying to find a pigment of truth  
Beneath my skin_

Arthur was near panic. He couldn't recall how long he'd been wandering along this beach, trying to find someone. Arthur had no idea who he was looking for, but he knew that he needed to find them soon. He watched as thunderclouds began to roll in along the coast, and felt his panic set in. This was it, he was alone. Well, not really alone, there were a few odd people scattered along the beach; a couple walking hand in hand, a few people tossing a Frisbee, a mother calling for her children to get out of the water. But Arthur barely noticed them. He slumped down on the damp sand, not caring how dirty his jeans got. Staring dejectedly at the ominous clouds, Arthur dug his toes into the sand, and decided to wait. With an airy sigh, he flopped onto his back and turned his head to look up at the sun, which was juxtaposed against the dark clouds in such an interesting way.

After a few minutes of staring into the sky he closed his eyes, determined, at least, to _not _blind himself. A moment later, a shadow passed over his face. Blinking open his eyes, he looked up to come face to face with Eames. "Eames?"

"Well, at least you didn't wear a suit to the beach", Eames chuckled as he offered the other man a hand, and pulled him to his feet.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur was confused. Suddenly he remembered everything. "Damnit! Where's Cobb?" Arthur was too busy berating himself to notice Eames' eyes looking him up and down. Spinning around, Arthur asked again, "Where's Cobb?"

"Oh, he's up there" Eames said, pointing to a large beach house up on the hill. "No doubt he's been expecting us both" Arthur gave a frustrated sigh, before beginning the trek up the hill, Eames following behind with a pensive look on his face. They walked up the surprisingly large hill in silence, only the occasional crack of thunder breaking the mounting tension. When they were nearing the top, Arthur whipped around to face Eames.

"Will you _stop_ staring at me? What's so interesting about my back?" Eames gave a light laugh before coving his mouth with a fist and pulling a straight face.

"For once, it's not covered in a vest and suit jacket" Catching Arthur's exaggerated eye roll, he continued, "But something about this dream is... Different, I suppose. Do you usually take this long to find your team?" Eames could see he'd struck a nerve in the other man, so he pressed on, "Nothing against you, Arthur Darling, I'm just noticing that it took me a long time to find you as well. Usually that doesn't happen at all."

"No... You're right, something is off..." Frowning, Arthur looked around, "I know this place, I think..." He trailed off, not knowing where he was going with that train of thought.

"Yes, I know it too", Eames left out the fact that he knew this beach very well. It was their beach, and the house they'd been walking to before, was their house.

"So it's real?" Arthur was sure that he hadn't been planning to use anything real in the layout of this dream. Hell, he hadn't been planning upon dreaming up a beach, but here they were.

"No, it's not" Eames looked like he was a million miles away, just staring off at the water. When it became apparent that the other man wasn't going to say anything else, Arthur turned and hiked the last couple of steps up the hill, until he was standing in front of the massive beach house. Giving it a cursory glance, he saw Cobb leaning against the railing on the porch overlooking the beach.

"Cobb!" Arthur called out, and watched as the man turned to face him. Cobb's face was scrunched up, confused for a moment, before a light of recognition shown in his eyes. As Arthur approached him, Cobb seemed to be thinking deeply. Running a hand through his thick hair, he looked Arthur in the eye,

"Do you and Eames have some kind of history that I should know about?" Thrown by the question, Arthur's mind raced as he debated what to tell Cobb. Finally he settled on the truth.

"Probably. But it'd be nice if I could know about it as well"

"Know about what?" Eames panted as he came to stand behind Arthur, having just made it to the top. He noticed the lost look on Arthur's face, and the questioning look on Cobb's.

"Whatever, or _wherever_ this is" Arthur replied absentmindedly; "Because Cobb thinks it has to do with us" He waved his hand between the two of them. The clouds had finally made their way across the sky, and suddenly it started to pour. Cobb immediately ran to stand under the cover of the open porch, and watched as the two men stared at each other in the rain. Cobb wasn't sure what to make of the pair, but they were definitely interesting.

_Let the rain fall down  
And wake my dreams  
Let it wash away  
My sanity  
'Cause I wanna feel the thunder  
I wanna scream  
Let the rain fall down  
I'm coming clean,_

**A/N: That took a while to write. I saw Inception for a fourth time (So I think Christopher Nolan now has enough of my money for a while), and it made me want to erase everything, and start again. Then I thought logically about that, and realized if I did that, this would never get finished. So I've decided to write another Inception fic, but only after I finish IYD. Oh, and I just watched RocknRolla, as I've been meaning to see that movie for ages, and Tom Hardy was adorably kick-ass. I'd recommend it to anyone. As always, Reviews are welcome!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I don't own Inception or "Misery" by Maroon 5**

_Sometimes these cuts are so much  
Deeper then they seem  
You'd rather cover up  
I'd rather let them bleed  
So let me be  
And I'll set you free..._

Eames felt the cold rain soaking through his light linen shirt. The white shirt suddenly became transparent, allowing his curving tattoos to become visible. But all he could do was watch Arthur lose himself in the rain. The shorter man had his eyes closed, his face turned upwards towards the sky, and he seemed totally relaxed. _This_ was the Arthur he knew and loved. Too bad they had work to do, or Eames could have stood there just watching, all day.

"Arthur, as much as I'd love to stand around here and drown in the rain with you, we have work to do" And there it was, Arthur's face closed like he was locking himself away. Eames felt a stab of pain at this, unable to avoid feeling as if Arthur was locking _him_ out. _Patience, Eames_. Arthur blinked his eyes, rapidly trying to clear the raindrops from them. Eames watched as Arthur's gaze caught on his dark tattoo's, and laughed, "I'll explain them another time Love, but now, we have to talk to Cobb"

Arthur took a final glance at Eames, before steeling himself, and walking towards the steps to the deck. Eames fell into step behind him, not quite sure of what to expect from Cobb, because the blond could clearly tell that something was going on between Arthur and Eames. Usually something like this wouldn't bother Eames in the slightest. He was proud of who he was, but he didn't want to force Arthur into anything, and he especially didn't want to place any memories into Arthur's mind, on purpose or by accident. If Arthur remembered on his own, that would be wonderful, and if he didn't, Eames would learn to live with this new Arthur. _Somehow_...

"Is this the location you were planning on using for the job?", Cobb asked, throwing Arthur a confused look. Arthur just looked slightly offended.

"Of course not! It's not emotionally important to the subject, and while it does pose a good vantage point from up here, this is the _only_ vantage point around. It's not sound in its layout for any kind of discreet operation at all!" Arthur had worked himself into a frenzy, trying, unconsciously, to impress both Cobb and Eames. Cobb nodded vaguely, before inquiring,

"So why are we here?" He raised an eyebrow. Arthur was at a loss for an answer. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again. Eames let this go on for a moment before speaking.

"If I may interject, I think I may be able to shed some light onto the subject at hand." At the twin nods he received, Eames looked at Arthur as he continued, "As you mentioned earlier, Arthur, we both know this beach. But do you recognize this beach from memory?" Arthur gave a noncommittal shrug. Eames barreled on, "Yes, well, that's because this beach is from the last time we were together in a dream, three years ago. I believe that since this is the first time we've shared a dream since then, it popped up on its own, as it were" Eames looked between the two men for a response. Cobb seemed to be very deep in thought. He couldn't make out whatever it was Arthur was thinking, because the man's face seemed to be void of all emotion. But Eames knew that this meant the other man was supremely shocked. He thought it best if he just waited out the moment.

"Both of you've worked in dreams separately since then, right?" They both nodded. "Then, this place must hold some emotional significance to you, Eames... well, both of you really doesn't it?" Eames nodded at Cobb, but didn't take his eyes off of Arthur who slowly nodded again.

Just as Arthur opened his mouth to speak, everything went black for a moment, and then Eames found himself staring up at the dingy ceiling of the warehouse. _Time's running out._ Looking over at Arthur, he found the smaller man staring pensively into space. He reached over, and placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder, before standing to wander over to Cobb, who was watching the two of them closely.

Cobb snapped out of his stupor, and beckoned Eames over silently. Speaking softly, and in an urgent tone, he said, "I think you either need to tell him everything, or show him. Because no matter your thoughts and opinions on his memories returning on their own, it's much more likely that they will only manifest themselves when the two of you are together like this. And if he stands any chance of surviving himself, he needs to know" With that said, Cobb stood, and made a show of stretching, before he walked over to Arthur, and told him he'd be happy to work on the Job. After the pair had spoken for a few minutes, discussing the details of the job, Cobb gave one last pointed look at Eames, before he wished them both luck, and left with an ambiguous, "Later."

Arthur and Eames stood on opposing sides of the room, each carefully examining the other, before Arthur spoke, "I guess we need to talk..."

"Yes, I would have to agree that we do, but can we get out of here first? This place is bringing back some strange memories that are best left packed away in my mind forever." It was only when Arthur gave him a strange look that Eames realized how much he'd given away about himself with that one careless statement. With a halfhearted shrug, he pulled on his hat, and walked past Arthur to the front door. Holding it open for the other man, he gave a grand swing of his arm, "Shall we?"

_It's not what I didn't feel,  
It's what I didn't show  
So let me be  
And I'll set you free..._

**A/N: Another chapter done! I hope I didn't make Cobb **_**too **_**sage in his advice and reasoning. But from the movie, I got that he knew a lot more about what was going down in the dream world then he let on. **


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I don't own Inception, or "I'll never dream" By Kaskade. (If any of you readers are listening to these songs as you read, I'd recommend searching for "I'll Never Dream I'm In Love" Instead. It's a coughbettercough remix. It only has the chorus, but that's what I was listening to while I wrote this)**

_Word's can mean or mislead  
Laying the heart on the line.  
For that second, you believe  
A life without him, you'll survive  
I try..._

As they wandered through the windy streets of downtown Brooklyn, Eames silently contemplated the warning he'd received from Cobb. He was paying only the barest attention to their surroundings, following almost blindly behind Arthur. So Eames was supremely shocked to find himself walking down a dirty set of stairs into the underground, or subway, rather. He stood and watched with detached amusement as Arthur pulled a metrocard out of his wallet, and swiped himself through. At first Arthur didn't realize that Eames hadn't followed, but after a moment, he turned around to smile at the other man. With a tilt of the head, he thought back for a minute, before teasing, "Well, we haven't got all night, _Darling_"

Realizing that his own words were being thrown back in his face, Eames gave a wide grin, before stepping into the turnstile and gesturing for Arthur's card. Swiping himself through with ease, he began following Arthur through the maze that was the New York City subway system. Eames was amazed at the way Arthur didn't seem to be turned around, or uncomfortable at all in this dark, and dirty underground, but rather, he seemed completely at ease, as if underneath the prim and proper Arthur exterior, there was this separate individual who was utterly different, almost plebian. With a quirk of the brow, Eames decided to watch Arthur more carefully, to see what other secrets the man was hiding.

The ride back to Arthur's flat was nothing if uneventful. The train had been partially empty, so Eames sat down on the hard seat. Arthur stood, and for some reason, this made Eames feel better. Arthur may be comfortable taking public transportation, but he wouldn't go so far as to _sit_ on the benches. When they made their way aboveground, the sky had grown dark again. They walked quickly through the night, and both were grateful to reach the warm lobby of Arthur's building. Arthur asked Eames to wait a minute as he checked his mail, before they stepped into the elevator, and made their way to the twenty-first floor. When the two were finally inside, Arthur slid the deadbolt in place, and watched as Eames pulled off his coat with a sigh, and flopped onto the couch, exhausted.

"Eames." Arthur warned, and Eames immediately took his feet off of the sofa with a wiry grin, and sat up. Looking Eames in the eye, Arthur asked the question that had been on his mind the entire way home, "What does Cobb want me to know?" Eames let out a gust of air, and stared down at the hardwood floor, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

"Everything, Arthur, everything..." Eames took a deep breath and looked up at the man sitting across from him. "Do you want me to tell you? Or... Or shall I show you?" He leaned back in his seat, and began idly biting his thumbnail, the only outward sign of how utterly petrified he was.

Arthur stood and walked over to a discreet closet in the corner of the room, rolling up his sleeve as he went. Drawing a small key from his pocket, he opened the door, and reached up to the top shelf, pulling down very familiar a silver case. Placing the case on its side on the coffee table, Arthur gave Eames a heavy look, as if to raise a challenge, and almost snarled out, "Show me."

_I'm asleep but I can never dream  
'Cause dreaming brings me back to you  
_

They were standing back on the beach, the surf washing up around their bare feet, but there was nothing there. There were no projections, and although there were no thunderclouds, the sky was still a pale shade of grey. Eames took a heavy step forward, wanting to get out this personal hell as quickly possible. He continued walking across the sand, knowing that Arthur would follow. The hike up the small hill passed in silence, Eames not wanting to speak. But he could also tell from the palpable tension between them that Arthur had something he needed to say or ask or comment on. Choosing to ignore the other man for the time being, Eames focused on the house that was rising closer at the top of the hill.

Stepping onto the front porch, Eames steeled himself against what he knew was coming, and opened the front door. Peeking around the doorframe, he closed his eyes at the intense pain clawing through his chest. Even though this particular memory was years old, it still pulled at his heart like a fresh one. Leaning back, and tugging the door closed behind himself, Eames turned to face Arthur, and began tiredly, "I think my subconscious wants us to work backwards... This is the last day we spent together"

Arthur simply gave Eames an impatient look, so Eames stepped aside and allowed the slight man to squeak through. Eames closed his eyes, briefly pinching the bridge of his nose, before, with a quiet sigh, he followed behind, hoping against hope that this would help them both get rid of the demons from their past.

_I try to think of what the future holds  
Because my past belongs to you..._

**A/N: This took a turn that I didn't expect, but now their past is going to take the frontseat for a while, and Arthur & Eames are going to have to work through their issues in order to be with each other... **


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I don't own Inception or "Gotta be Somebody" by Nickelback**

_And damnit this feels too right  
It's just like déjà vu  
Me standing here with you._

Arthur stood in the corner of the wide living room, watching the scene unfold in front of him. He felt Eames lean in behind him, and whisper in his ear,

"This was the day before you left..." Arthur tried to suppress the shiver that ran down his spine at the other man's breathy voice in his ear. Instead, he turned his concentration to the couch, where he saw himself and Eames reflected back. He should have expected a scene like this, from what Eames had mentioned about their past, but seeing it play out in front of him was heart wrenching. Arthur could only imagine how Eames was feeling, at being forced to relive these memories. And for a moment, Arthur regretted his rash decision to see everything. But the feeling was fleeting, and he braced himself for whatever he was going to encounter here.

_This time I wonder what it feels like  
To find the one in this life, the one we all dream of  
But dreams just aren't enough..._

"Eames, let's go for a walk", Arthur sat up from his position, lying against Eames' chest.

"Mmm... Not right now love" Eames opened one eye, and looking over at Arthur. They'd been snoozing together on the couch for most of the morning. Eames really didn't want to get up. Arthur gave him a long look, and Eames thought this man would be the death of him, before he heaved himself forward. Placing a soft kiss on his lover's lips, he smiled at the other man, before giving him a light shove, and running out the door onto the porch, Arthur following quickly behind. Neither man noticed the versions of themselves standing in the corner of the room as they passed by.

Eames kicked off his sandals, and stepped out onto the sand. He stopped and turned to hold out his hand to Arthur. As the smaller man laced their fingers, Eames thought to himself, this was the way he wanted it to be in real life. They wandered along the beach in silence for a while, just enjoying the calm. Eames' mind began to race. Being here for so long, there wasn't much more to do, but think.

"Do you think they'll tell me your name?" Arthur asked offhandedly. Eames stared over at Arthur, but the other man was looking out over the water.

"What?" Eames wasn't sure what Arthur was implying.

"I'm just wondering, when we get out-"

"If we get out" Arthur rolled his eyes, but continued speaking.

"_When_ we get out, will I already know your name? Or will I have to ask them?" Eames frowned.

"Why is it so important? You know my last name. I never –_Never- _use my first name, and we're most likely not getting out of here anyway." Arthur seemed full of tension, so Eames sighed, determined to let this one go. "I promise, I'll tell you before we leave... Hmm?"

"Fine" Arthur conceded. They fell silent again. "But what if-"

"No." Eames declared with a smile. Squeezing Arthur's hand, he pulled the man closer and kissed his forehead, "My name was my father's name. I hated my father. It's not even that great of a name, and I like that you call me Eames, end of story. Now, can we talk about something else? Or better yet, let's not talk at all..." He leaned forward and captured Arthur's lips in a kiss.

_...So I'll be waiting for the real thing  
I'll know it by the feeling_

Arthur watched the couple in front of him in a mild state of wonder. They were so comfortable with each other. Arthur never felt anything even close to the bond those two had. But looking over at _his_ Eames, he realized that this man standing next to him was willing to go the distance for him. As the couple kissing in front of them grew more heated, Arthur stopped walking and turned to watch his Eames.

Eames' face was like an open book. There was no hesitation in his expression. He looked, quite simply, broken to Arthur. As if he'd relived these memories numerous times before, and showing them to Arthur was just the icing on the cake. Eames looked over at Arthur, and smiled weakly when their eyes met.

"Seen enough?" Eames gave a small smirk.

"Yeah," Arthur chanced a glance over at the couple, who were now laying on the sand, still kissing like there was no tomorrow. _Well, I guess there isn't_, Arthur mused to himself. But seeing that this was becoming steadily more of a private matter, he looked back at Eames with a light blush staining his cheeks. "I think we should give them some privacy" Eames let out a loud bark of laughter, and grabbed Arthur's hand, pulling him to walk along the beach in the other direction. He wondered what his subconscious had in store for them next.

_You can't give up, looking for a diamond in the rough_

_You never know when it shows up_

_Make sure you're holding on_

_'Cause it could be the one, the one you're waiting on..._

**A/N: I'm so sorry that this took so long. My mind's been pretty topsy-turvy lately, and I couldn't figure out where to go next. I'm not quite sure if I like where this is going. I had an entire plot figured out with my friend and my sister, but when I sat down to actually write it, nothing seemed to work. I'm sorry it's so short, but I'm working on the next bit now, and it should be longer!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I don't own Inception, "Skin and Bones (Feat. Darren Criss)" by Charlene Kaye or "In for the Kill" by La Roux**

_I'm running around hoping to find  
somebody like the boy that I left behind,  
who loved all of me,  
my fingernails and scatterbrain and crooked teeth..._

Eames pulled Arthur along next to him as they continued to walk down the beach. After a while of seeing nothing but the large expanse of sand, they suddenly came across a large chain-link fence, complete with barbed wire running along the top. From what they could see, there was nothing beyond this fence, and to Arthur, it seemed to be guarding nothing at all. Eames let out a groan, and Arthur looked over at him in response,

"What is this place?" Arthur was now examining the tall fence before him. Eames sighed.

"This was where we first met, although I don't know if that's the memory we're going to see..." They lapsed back into silence for a moment, each examining the daunting fence in front of them. Eames suddenly took five measured steps to his right, and crouched down by one of the posts holding up the fence. He reached down into the overgrown brush that had grown around the edge of the fence. After a few muttered expletives were heard, he pulled back a portion of the fence, and gestured for Arthur to crawl through. Arthur gave a half-shrug, and bent down to make his way through. Only when Eames had made his way through, and was re-securing the gap in the fence, did Arthur begin to wonder.

"Why is that there? Why couldn't we just walk through the front gates? This is your memory-dream-thing... right?" Eames pondered this for a second. Trying not to rehash memories in his mind whilst they were in the midst of another memory, he responded,

"Because this was where you and I would sneak away all the time, and that was how we did it."

"Oh..." Arthur turned to look at the military base, which had unfolded in front of them. "Is this-I mean, are we in Syria?" Eames frowned slightly, before replying.

"I guess you could say that. This base only really existed in the dreams we all shared _in_ Syria. So by association, yes, this is Syria."

"...But we're not there now, because this is just a dream" Arthur was slowly piecing it together.

"Look who's catching on," Eames teased. Before Arthur could argue with him, he continued, "Never mind Darling, shall we press on?"

_But 'til then, I'll keep on wanting you who I can't have_

_cuz with the distance came this awful dam_

_and being in love_

_with someone I can't feel or hold or see or touch..._

Arthur was very confused. He wasn't sure where he was, or when he was. Frankly, he was partially inclined to just start running. He half accepted that this was a dream, and that running would take him nowhere, but he still felt the urge to get away. Hopefully the next memory wouldn't be so mind-numbingly sweet. It felt like getting lemon juice in a cut you didn't even know was there. Now that he realized that something was wrong in his mind, it just wouldn't leave him alone. He continued walking through the base, following slightly behind Eames, not really paying much attention to his surroundings, until he practically walked into Eames' back. Apparently they had arrived at the memory that the other man's subconscious wanted him to see. Arthur tried to mentally steady himself, before he moved to stand next to Eames, and began to watch.

_Let's go to war, to make peace_

_Let's be cold, to create heat_

_I hope in darkness, we can see_

_And you're not blinded by the light from me_

Eames was totally lost. He's been walking in circles through the base, just trying to find the mess hall. He'd gotten there fine this morning, but now he couldn't find the damn building. _The Architect must be having a bloody wonderful time._ He thought absently. After about twenty minutes of trying to find a building that probably didn't even exist anymore, he decided to make his way to his next posting early, instead of wasting his time. He figured that he could eat later.

When he arrived in the gymnasium, he glanced over at the list of sparring partners. Skimming until he caught his name on the list, he read the name next to his. With a frown, he turned and yelled out, "Oy, who the hell is Arthur-" Scrunching up his face, he turned back to the list to reread the last name, he then spun back around to find a skinny young cadet standing directly in front of him.

"I'm Arthur. Don't worry about my last name, it's so ridiculously weird that even the higher-ups call me Arthur." Eames gave the man a once over, he was struck dumb by this man, and he didn't know why.

"Ever consider a change?" Eames asked absentmindedly. When all he got in response was an abrupt shake of the head, he mentally shook himself, and, deciding that teasing the man about his name probably wasn't the best way to start off, he continued, "Alright, _Arthur_, I'm Eames, and don't worry about my _first_ name, it's so ridiculously boring, that everybody just calls me Eames. Shall we?" Eames gestured towards the mostly empty blue mats laid out sporadically around the hall. They made their way over to a mat off to one side, and stood on opposite sides, watching each other wearily. "As much as I'd love to just stare at you all day, we- Umph" Eames was suddenly laying flat on his back, and he wasn't quite sure how he'd gotten there. Staring up at the ceiling for a bit, he took a deep breath, and swung out a low kick. With a thump, Arthur was laying next to him. Eames let out a breathy chuckle. _This ought to be fun_. Was his last thought before their fight evolved into something much more distracting. They continued in a flurry of Arms and legs, each struggling to get the upper hand.

"You're going to have to do better than that, Eames" Arthur called out, and soon they were reduced to wrestling on the floor, not even bothering to stand. And after a few random blows were struck, Eames found himself in a headlock that he couldn't wriggle or fight his way out of. As the edges of his vision began to go dark, he thought to himself, _I like the way he plays_.

Suddenly Eames was looking up at the grey ceiling of his hospital room. The walls seemed to be closing in around him. Sitting up, he chuckled to himself at the Audacity of the other man. It was an unspoken rule, that you didn't kill someone in your first fight, unless you were prepared for the ensuing fights when your partner was re-inserted in the dreamscape. But there was something about this Arthur that intrigued Eames, so much that he didn't feel any spite towards him for killing him, just an extreme hunger to get back to the dream and fight him again. Not to kill him, although it would probably be simpler to kill Arthur in a fight, than to catch him alive, But Eames thought he'd finally found a sparring partner who thought so differently, so creatively, that he presented much more of a challenge. Pulling the tray of plain food towards himself, Eames tucked in quickly, hoping he'd be able to get back to the dream quickly.

_I'm doing it for a thrill  
Oh I'm hoping you'll understand  
And not let go of my hand_

Arthur had watched the entire fight with a detached air about him, some parts of it had been very entertaining, and others very dramatic, although none of it struck him as familiar. But when they arrived in the hospital room, something inside his mind clicked into place. He remembered these dark walls, and austere rooms. He suddenly felt very dizzy. "Eames..." He called out, but as the other man turned to face him, his vision went dark, and all he could feel was the sensation of falling.

**A/N: Okay, I'm so sorry that this one took even longer than the last. I went out of town for a while, and then when I came back, I had no idea about where to go next. But here we are, and Arthur's remembered something! I'll be starting classes soon, so I won't be able to publish as frequently as I used to, but I'm shooting for once a week. But anyways, let me know what you think!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I don't Own "Inception", "The Things that We Don't Say" by Marcquell Ward, or "Longing for Lullabies" by Kleerup ft. Titiyo.**

**So this chapter is made up of two flashbacks. The first is a "new" memory for Arthur, and the second is just his "earliest" memory of what Eames wanted him to remember. It should make sense as you read. If not, let me know!**

Arthur watched with mild resignation as the older man sat down in the chair across from him. He should have straightened his uniform, or at least, sat up to show that he was paying any attention, or given other form of respect for the lieutenant, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Instead, he looked down at the file that was lying open on the table between them. He skimmed the lines for a minute, before he let out a scoff.

"That's bullshit...", He mumbled.

"Excuse me Sergeant?", Arthur didn't look up, choosing to continue reading the file.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about... _sir_." Looking up, he stared into the man's eyes, trying to find some sign of a reaction. Finding none, he looked away to stare at the two-way mirror on the wall next to him. Giving a tight smile to the officer he knew was watching from the other side, he turned to face the other wall.

"Son, I'm going ask you one question, and I'm going need you to answer." Holding up a hand to stop Arthur from speaking, he continued, "Some of the trials you were involved in were highly classified, and some weren't. Also, some of your conduct, involving a Sgt. Eames was less than praiseworthy in the eyes of the United States Armed Forces. If you are willing to give a testimony against this Sergeant, then this issue can be dropped, and you will be returned to your original unit."

"Or...", Arthur could feel it hanging in the air between them.

"Or we wipe everything." Arthur frowned.

"You make it sound like my mind is simply a hard drive. As if you could just pass a magnet past my head, and I'll forget." Arthur was leaning over the table, the lieutenant gave him a calculating look.

"What in the _hell_ makes you think we can't?" Arthur blinked, and slouched back into his seat.

"What do you want me to say? That I'm a faggot? That I slept with Sgt. Eames? That he told me shit that you think you need to know?", Arthur was fed up with the entire situation. "Well fuck you. I'm not telling you shit, because the only things that Eames told me were on a "need to know" basis, and _you_ don't need to know. So go ahead, wipe my fucking memory. Do whatever the hell you need to do to keep your job, because I sure as shit don't want mine anymore." Arthur sat fuming for a few minutes. Both men stared at each other, until suddenly the lieutenant pulled the file towards himself. He flipped through a few pages, and skimmed for a moment before pulling a pen out of his lapel and holding it out towards Arthur.

"Just sign here, initial here, and sign down at the bottom." Arthur had been expecting a reaction like this, but it still shocked him to see someone else be so calm about the situation. Reaching forward, he plucked the pen out of the other man's hand, and quickly signed, not bothering to read the page. He figured he'd gotten this far by disregarding the fine print. As soon as he placed the pen on the file next to the small stack of papers, the file was slammed shut and whisked away. In mere moments, the lieutenant had left the room, and there were two burly doctors advancing on him. Arthur could not think of anything to say as they walked him down the hall into a small, dark room. There was a plain, grey bed shoved against the far wall. The two men sat him down, and Arthur didn't have time to think of much more before he felt a needle jab him in the neck, but as he felt the sedative take affect, he let out a breathy sigh, "_I'm sorry Eames..." _Then everything went black.

It's the things that we don't say

Everybody makes the same mistakes

Take them with us when we go away

Arthur hesitantly opened his eyes, before slamming them shut at the harsh light. After a moment, he blinked a few times, and looked around. He was in a hospital, of that he was sure. But he didn't really know where the hospital was. Turning his head, he craned his neck to look out the window, but all he could see was blue sky. Slowly adjusting his head upon the pillow so that he was, instead, facing the door, he inched his hand towards the "call" button next to his fingers. It took a fair bit of effort, but he eventually got the device in his grip, and pressed the small green button. Within seconds, a small harried looking young nurse walked through the door and grabbed his chart off of the foot of his bed.

"Yes Mr..." Her face scrunched up in confusion as she studied his name. For reasons Arthur didn't know, he simply said,

"Call me Arthur. It's so much simpler that way", It was then Arthur's turn to frown at the situation. _Where did that come from?_ It was as if there was someone else in his mind, speaking for him.

"Well, if you're sure Arthur" She gave him a weary look, as if he was playing some kind of trick. He gave a slightly dazed sort of smile, and she gave him a long look, before giving Arthur a sort of conspiratory grin, as if they were now in cahoots. "I'm Joyce, and I'll be your nurse during most of your stay here, well, I've _been_ your nurse, mostly" Arthur took this opportunity to ask the question that was bugging him,

"Thank you Joyce, but can I ask, where is here?" She looked a bit lost for a second, _I know the feeling_, before she smiled lightly, and moved to check all of his monitors.

"Texas, this is the closest hospital to Ft. Wayne without actually being on the base. They brought you in from a car accident, it was pretty rough, You got knocked around and your head went through some heavy trauma, so, really, it's quite somethin' that you even remember your own name." Arthur tried to think back to when he was driving on the road, but he simply couldn't picture any of it. Instead, he tried to keep up with the constant babble coming out of Joyce's mouth, "It was right near the base actually. They trucked you here in one of those Army Med-evac vans. You were semi-conscious for a while, but you passed out just as they got you here. It's a miracle you're still with us, bless your heart." Arthur was beginning to feel the beginnings of a headache. He pressed his eyes shut, and tried to focus on his breathing. As he let the sound of Joyce's voice wash over him, Arthur began to fall back into the dream world, not having any idea of how close to the mark he really was.

Fading memory is soon becoming blind

Dividing us in two

Somewhere

All that we leave behind

Lingers on

**A/N: I'm SO sorry that this took me so long. I started school, and it pretty much put a moratorium on the REST of my LIFE. But here we are, back again. Arthur was up to something, but we won't know what that is until much later.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I do not own Inception, "More than it Seems" by Kutless or "Lights" by Ellie Goulding.**

'_Till There's nothing that's left of me_

_Show me the weight of these dreams..._

Arthur sat up, gasping for breath. His eyes danced around the room, reminding him of where he was. As he checked the calendar beside his bed, Arthur tried to push aside the haunting cold that was left in his chest. No matter how many times he awoke from the same dream, the feeling always lingered. He tried to ignore the unpleasant sensation as he changed his focus to a lighter subject; today was the day. Sitting up, Arthur pulled off the loose hospital gown and threw it into a near basket, almost missing the basket in his haste to get rid of the offensive garment. Turning towards the small chair in the corner, he picked up the dark blue jeans and, after checking that all of the tags had been properly removed, he pulled them on. Repeating this process with the remaining undershirt, grey dress shirt, black vest, and tie, Arthur slowly began to feel like a normal person again, instead of a captive in an asylum. Finally, after sitting down to pull on his socks and shoes, he took a look around the room that had served as his pseudo-home. The gifts and vases of flowers from faceless names had stopped arriving after a few weeks of his admission. Now, two months later, the room was just empty. He stood, grabbed the small leather bag from the chair by the door, and made his way towards freedom. He tossed a quick goodbye to the nursing desk, but didn't stop to chat. He'd learned from his experience with Joyce the day before, that goodbyes could be dragged out if he let them.

Stepping out into the sun, Arthur squinted as he made his way to the taxi stand that seemed to be a deserted hub in the midst of the chaos of the hospital entrance. There was one tall, skinny man leaning against the small shack of an office, smoking a cigarette, and there was a small, pudgy woman sitting at the desk that seemed to be squished into the tiny space. Nodding at the man, Arthur approached the window in front of the lady. She looked up at him, and asked, "Where do you need to go?"

Arthur was taken aback by her bored, almost emotionless tone. Everyone in the hospital had always shown some new, or interesting inflection in their way of speaking, be it rushed, or tired, or supremely interested. But this woman was barely there, just a shell of a person. When the skinny man turned to look at him, Arthur realized that he'd been standing there, speechless for far too long.

"Oh, yea, sorry, The Airport." Before Arthur could say another word, his bag had been whisked away, and the skinny man was sitting in the driver's seat of a nearby cab. With a slight grimace at the pushiness of this man, Arthur hunkered down into the backseat of the cab and let himself be whisked away. He didn't know why he felt so apprehensive about leaving the hospital. Truthfully he was glad to watch it recede in the rear view window. Maybe it was the fact that he had no idea of what was coming towards him.

_Passing through darkness into my own world  
Will I be more than when I left?  
Never letting go of the lessons I've learned,_

_This will make a change  
A change within me..._

Eames was pissed off. The flight from Toronto had been terrible. He didn't even know why he'd been shipped to Toronto, but he'd left at the first chance he got. If this was the treatment he was going to receive, just for leaving the military, then he wasn't going to stick around to see what was next on the menu. Eames stood from the cramped coach seat, just a second before the 'fasten-seatbelt' sign went off. Grabbing his bag from the overhead bin, he rushed towards the front of the plane. Unfortunately, just as he made it to first class, the captain's voice cracked over the speaker, informing the entire cabin that there had been a problem clearing the gate. Eames felt more than heard all of the passengers behind him groan in frustration. He just wanted to get out of there. Leaning on the seat beside him, Eames took a long, slow breath, and settled in to wait.

_This time I won't run away_

_I found the strength to face life's long days..._

Arthur stood waiting for his bag to come down the large chute at the turnstile, and as he waited, he decided that he hated airports. Well, it wasn't really a decision, so much as a realization of a feeling that was already there. The more he embraced his decision, the more comfortable he felt with the hatred bubbling up inside him. As he surveyed the bags making their slow journey around the room, he realized that none of the bags there were from his flight. Startled by this awareness, he thought for a second. Over the last month, he'd noticed that he had a particular eye for detail, but this was bordering on madness. Looking around, Arthur noticed that no one else was taking their bag. His observation had been correct, but he hadn't deduced it from watching the people around him. He had only seen the bags of the other passengers for a few moments while waiting for check-in. Shaking his head, he made his way over to a small bench that sat facing the conveyor belt. His bag would eventually come, once these other bags were picked up by the other flight. Arthur just hoped that, in the confusion, waiting wouldn't take _too_ long.

_And I'm not sleeping now_

_The dark is too hard to beat  
And I'm not keeping now _

_The strength I need to push me..._

His steps were rushed and random. Eames just wanted to get out of this hellhole. Barely glancing at the wonky signs that may confuse him, he just followed the crowd toward what he hoped was the baggage claim area. A rush of relief passed through him at the sight of his slightly battered bag making its way around the far side of the turnstile. His eyes roamed the room for a minute, trying to find the quickest way to nab it, and get out. When Eames caught sight of a most familiar form sitting prone on a nearby bench, he almost choked on his own breath.

Arthur was sitting right there. Eames knew he should look away, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. A month of searching, and the man was sitting right in front of him. Arthur was real, and just a gorgeous as ever. As Eames took a step towards him, Arthur looked over. Their eyes met, and for a moment Eames thought it was going to be okay, that Arthur was feeling just a relieved as him. But the moment was over as quickly as it started. Arthur looked away awkwardly, and pointedly did not look back again. Eames mentally shook himself. _'Remember what they told you, he doesn't remember anything...'_ Trying not to do anything rash, Eames made his over to his bag, which miraculously was passing nearby, and making sure that everything was okay; he made his way out to the street. He hailed a taxi, and as he watched the lights of the New York City skyline draw nearer, Eames wondered what in the world he was going to do.

_You show the lights that stop me turn to stone  
You shine it when I'm alone  
And so I tell myself that I'll be strong  
And dreaming when they're gone..._

**A/N: I know, this was late. I blame writers' block, any anything else that there is to blame. What else can I say?...school was a bitch. But what else is new. **

**Anyway. We're finally moving forward a bit. Next chapter we're going to skip ahead a bit, and then the one after that will be when they both wake up from the dreamsharing that got us here in the first place.**

**Please review and let me know what you think!**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: I don't own Inception, or "Never Going Back Again" by Fleewood Mac.**

_**He broke down and let me in...**_

_**Made me see where I'd been.**_

As Arthur stood watching his memories float by, he began to notice a creeping sort of pain that was quickly making its way up his neck, and permeating his brain. He was so distracted by the molten fire moving through him, that he didn't notice when details began to disappear. He gripped the sides of his head, and let out a small whimper. Clenching his eyes shut, Arthur fell to his knees. The memories around him glowed with the pulse of the pain, time lost all meaning, and then everything was black.

Arthur stared up at the beige ceiling of his apartment. A cool cloth was pressed onto his forehead. Arthur could only assume that it was Eames beside him. The blinding pain in his head had all but gone, leaving behind only a dull ache. He blinked, and turned his head to look at Eames. With a raspy voice he could only assume came from screaming while trapped in his memories, Arthur tried to speak his mind, "Eames... God. Eames, I'm sorry...so, so, so sorry."

At that, Eames face seemed to crumble. He crouched down next to the couch and grasped Arthur's hand in his own. "There's absolutely nothing for you to be sorry about, darling. Nothing."

Arthur shook his head in protest, but immediately regretted the motion. Sudden nausea pushed all other thoughts from his mind. He held himself completely still for a moment, and took a deep breath. "Eames... I remember. I remember it all. I remember the beach, and the fence, and the loft, and the kisses, and that scar, and your horrible cooking. I remember making love with you... But I also remember why I left you."

Eames sat, stunned, for a moment. "You didn't leave... not really anyway. Your dream simply ended."

Arthur shook his head more slowly this time. "No Eames. I left. I had found a way out, but there were extenuating circumstances- loose ends that I had to tie up before I could meet you in reality. Unfortunately for me, and for us, when I was able to tie them up, they changed me."

"Arthur, what are you talking about?", Eames' face had become a sort of stony mask.

"I wasn't who you thought I was... Well, not really" At the look of slight horror and confusion that was spreading across Eames' face, Arthur pressed on, "I had originally been sent into The Project to do a sort of recon on the recruits who were participating in the new study. I worked for the CIA. I had no idea of what The Project was, but I was good at my job, and so I took on the project, considering it a sort of promotion. Blending into the world of the military was a challenge in itself, one that I was only too happy to try. Since The Project was an international conference of sorts, The U.S. Army was concerned with the sheer number of international recruits who had been taken in for The Project. It was my job to simply gather intel on as many people as I possibly could. I rationalized that there must have been other spies in our midst, I tried to make myself feel better about it all. But then I met you..." Arthur trailed off, and for a moment Eames thought Arthur was going to fall back asleep.

"Arthur?" Eames squeezed the other man's hand for a moment, and then hurriedly let go. "What about me Arthur?"

"You changed everything. I had studied you when I was on the farm- well, your father really. He was a high mark on the CIA's watch-list before he killed himself in that bombing in London. And so the CIA had been watching you, trying to see if you showed any inclination of following in your fathers footsteps. When my boss found out that I had begun to get closer to you, it became my job to _keep_ getting closer to you. I was passing information on you back to the higher ups on my food chain. But the thing was; you weren't doing anything wrong, or at least, not that I could tell. Every time I went to my boss, he was extremely flustered, convinced that you had to be doing something wrong; dealing with the wrong contacts, making some sort of malicious deal-something, anything. But each and every time I spoke to you, I could only ever find more things to like about you. I had worked for Langley for 4 years, and yet this one case was to be the end of my career as I knew it. I was simultaneously investigating and falling in love with you. It was driving me mad, living such a double life. But I knew something had to give, or else they would pull me from the project, as it was proving to be a dud- so I changed the game. It was worth it though, you were worth it."

"Worth what?", Eames was beginning to worry about what this was all leading up to.

"I started to lie. I lied about you. I told them secrets you had never told me. I made you into the criminal that your father most probably would have made you. I made it seem as if I was the only contact to you that the CIA would ever get. When the enormity of my lies began to reach a point of potential danger, they locked down your dream-state. They figured you wouldn't pose a threat if you couldn't escape your own mind..."

"But?", Eames could tell that there was something Arthur wasn't telling him.

"But as both self punishment and reward, I requested that I be locked down with you, so as to 'monitor and record the threat level you posed to society'. It was a load of crap, and I knew it, they probably knew it, but they let me carry on with the facade. The CIA had lost its use for me." Arthur looked up at the ceiling, away from Eames. He couldn't take the shame that was building in his gut. It was overwhelming, trying to piece back together the two lives he's lived. Having Eames here was both hugely comforting and extremely disconcerting. "I... I don't know what I thought I would do in the end. I was naive, and I am sorry for that."

Eames nodded mutely, and sat back on the floor, having squeezed himself between the couch and the coffee table. It was all so surreal. Arthur was here in front of him-the real Arthur that he remembered, but he was saying all of these things that didn't make much sense. "It's fine" he mumbled, more to himself than to Arthur.

Arthur turned his head sharply to examine the man sitting next to him. "What are you talking about? It's fine? No it is most definitely not fine. I made you out to be some sort of criminal. If you weren't going to be arrested before, then you really were after all of the things I said. It was stupid of me-immature. I wanted you for myself, so I turned you into someone you're not! How can you say that it's fine?"

Eames gave a wry grin, before stating what seemed most obvious, "But by doing all of those things; saying all of those lies, you did almost nothing to change who I am. I'm here now love."

Arthur was quiet. All of his guilt had blinded him from seeing what was right in front of him. Of who was right in front of him. Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he voiced the only question that had floated to the top of his head, "How are you here anyway?"

Eames gave a deep chuckle, and rubbed the back of his neck in an almost embarrassed manner. Looking up at the ceiling for a brief moment, he spoke, "Well, Arthur, I changed myself."

**A/N: I have no idea of what kept me away for so long, but there you have it, chapter 18! Finally! There will probably only be a couple more chapters, but I think you'll enjoy them! Please review, and let me know what you think! (I know that there are lurkers, and I want to know how you feel about this chapter!)**


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